


The Scaled Beginnings

by the_impatient_panda



Series: The Life of the Lizard Woman from the Dawn of Time [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Beginnings, Gen, Hatchlings, Mental bonds, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25455760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_impatient_panda/pseuds/the_impatient_panda
Summary: Vastra's story was so very much deeper than anyone ever imagined. From hatching to the long sleep, it was a massive tapestry that spanned centuries.WARNING:INCOMPLETE There are some very fleshed out sections, some that are barely more than skeleton dialogue and some that is merely sketched in notes. Enjoy or hate as you see fit. There is a beginning, middle and end. And it ties neatly into Traveling the Stars.
Series: The Life of the Lizard Woman from the Dawn of Time [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1859359
Kudos: 2





	The Scaled Beginnings

Vastra did not remember the day she was hatched. That was not unusual among her kind, hatchlings only moderately more advanced than the infants of the mammalian race on her planet. The begging, exhausted babes would be taken from the fragments of their shells and placed together in a warm, dry cocoon with their many brothers and sisters piled about them. Tended by the Caretakers, and the young juveniles on duty, the Hatchlings would be carefully fed a slurry of meat, blood and organs. The lead Caretaker would lead them in the first hum, and build the bond that would bind the siblings together for the rest of their life. 

Within days they would go from blind, nearly helpless creatures to small predators able to strip a carcass to the bones and crack the biggest open for marrow. Language would come in less than a week, a side-effect of their constant mental connection to their Caretakers. Within four, the hatchlings would become lightly scaled juveniles. Ready to leave the nest and begin their first year of training. 

The first year was dedicated to mastering their psychic field. So much about their training would progress faster once control of their minds became as natural as breathing. Going from an almost collective mind to an individual was difficult, but necessary. Their ancestors had learned that lesson centuries ago. 

Lesson one was all based on communication. Linked on their day of hatching, and language learned from the minds of those who cared for them, it was hard to distinguish when one was using one’s voice or one’s mind at first. 

Discuss the Mentors, Teachers and their three ‘parental Caretakers’. 

Those three, assigned to the Hatchlings at birth, remains with the young juveniles until they were considered adults. They would ease the juveniles through their first molt, and teach them to care for themselves. Their first lessons in manners and conversation, in respect and tradition, would come from them. The knowledge that the Silurians had once been a savage people who had mastered their inner beast and rose to be something more. That they would be taught to use their considerable senses so they may also be in control of them. 

Physical training disguised as games kept the young ones out of too much mischief. It never stopped all the nightly raids on the larder, or forays into the darkened city streets, but those were practically a rite of passage in and of themselves.

What was never done was shirk one’s duty. The burden of responsibility was instilled in them at a young age, the City was only as strong as it’s weakest part. Thus, even the smallest duties became important. Vital, even. Their world was a dangerous one, filled with predators much larger and stronger than they. There were other Silurian cities, not all of who were friendly. To remain safe and strong, to move forward with confidence, each must carry their part or all would fall.

Vastra was chosen to train with the Hunters at a young age. She was quick and strong, able to leap head and shoulders above her siblings. She was almost as quick of mind, but to sit and learn was a labor she did not love. Wisely, the Elders chose her path where she would thrive.

She and her fellow Hunters were first trained to track and stalk. To move with silence and grace. To climb without disturbing a single leaf. To taste the air with her tongue and be able to tell who had been there, where they had gone, and how long they had lingered even on a trail several days old.

For combat, defense was taught first, and in fact the basics were taught to all the young Silurians in the city. How to avoid being struck, how to fall without breaking bone or scale. How to escape an aggressor’s hold. And how to run and hide. Life was sacred, they were taught. All life. They would not be taught to attack until that respect was so ingrained within them that they would only use that knowledge in the direst of situations.

Vastra, as each of her siblings did, came to a crisis one day as she ate her evening meal. It was a small mammal, covered in a soft fur. Glassy brown eyes stared up at her, and she felt sick as she saw the stump of the limb she had just torn off in her haste to fill her belly.

“Is something wrong, little climber?” Talsann, one of her caretakers, asked as he scooped her from the floor. 

The juvenile in his arms stared at the dead creature still in her hands, tears streaming down her face.

“Life is sacred,” she whispered between hiccupping gasps as she was taken to another room. “Life is sacred, and yet we kill to eat. Why?”

“SImply, dear little climber, because we must,” Talsann told her, taking her abandoned meal from her hands and setting it aside for a moment. “We cannot live without flesh and blood. We have tried, and it is not meant for our kind. We become weak. We sicken and die.”

“Then what do I do, Sappa?” she wailed, using the use-name given her Caretaker. “If I must eat to live and take life to eat, then how is life sacred?”

“The difference, little climber, is here,” her Sappa said as he stroked her forehead ridges gently. “In your thoughts and in your heart. This creature died that you might live. Respect that sacrifice. Honor its death in your thanks.”

Vastra had not truly thought about the words spoken after eating before. A short recitation of thanks. Thanks, she had assumed, for a belly filled and the one who had provided the meal. Now she saw her error. Yes, those were things to be thankful for, but the true thanks was in the sacrifice. The death for her life. 

“I understand,” she said as she turned her face into his neck. “I will do better next time.”

“No,” he told her firmly. “You will do better now.” He hands her the unfinished carcass.

“My appetite is gone, Sappa.”

“Then you are disrespecting the sacrifice, little climber,” he told her sternly, setting her on a table so their faces were even. “You will eat every bite, and I will watch to be sure that you do. And when you are done, you will say the words. You will understand the sacrifice and respect it. We do not waste, little one. Not once we understand.”

It was hard that first time. Vastra’s stomach roiled unpleasantly, as her teeth bit through flesh and sinew, bone crunching hollowly in her mouth. But she ate every bite, and the pride in her Sappa’s face shone. 

“Now,” he said as he bowed his head with her. “We say the words.”

Quietly, with reverence and understanding, Vastra obeyed.

My thanks for this meal. My thanks for this life. My thanks.

“Now that you understand, Talsann said he took her back in his arms. “You must never forget.”

“I won’t,” she promised, touching her forehead to his. “I will respect the sacrifice and do my duty. I will not forget.”

“You make me proud, little climber,” he told her as they rejoined her siblings. “You will grow, to serve well.”

Vastra’s clutch-mates were not all Hunters, and she realized as she grew older the wisdom in this. She had fierce pride in her brothers and sisters, and reveled in their accomplishments as she would her own. The lithe, strong female did not care for the study of numbers, but she was among the first to crow with joy when her brother was chosen to train among the most talented of their mathematicians. She did not have the temperament or skill with words to deal politely with others, but her sister did and Vastra boasted of her golden tongue to any that would listen. Rasha, with his clever claws, who was always building things. Cassana, gifted in voice and rhythmn. Leese, who’s mind was so strong he had already been entrusted with part of the archive of memories. Triumphs and failures were equally shared and each evening after their final meal the clutch would lie together and hum. 

The mental resonance was quiet, and helped them all relax to sleep. It was a comfort and security, a promise that one would never be alone. Vastra lay curled among her brothers and sisters, humming with them, complete and content.

Their world was dangerous, though, and no clutch went untouched forever. 

Tassana was the smallest among her clutch, and no one knew what spooked the beat she had been tending. Her death was mercifully swift, a single moment crushed between the creature and the walled enclosure and she was gone. 

It was Vastra’s first vigil. For a day and a night, she and her siblings tended the fire that burned Tassana to ash, supervised by their caretakers. They spoke the words and shared the memories between them and laid their nestmate to rest among the ashes of those who had come before. 

Exhausted and bellies distended from their first meal in a day and a night, the clutch had hummed together. But Tassana’s quiet mind was missed, and one by one they broke off to keen their loss in the dark of the night. No one disturbed their grief, and as one they mourned for the smallest of their number who had been lost far too soon. 

Eventually, Talsann and their Sassa’s had come in, to hum with them as they had not since the juveniles had been very young. Such strong, steady presences had been a balm to aching hearts and eventually sleep had come. It would not be the clutch-mates only loss, but it was their first and it would never be forgotten.

On their fifteenth cycle of hatching, everything changed. 

The feast was impressive, as it always was. The eleven juveniles were given their places among the adults at the eating tables, and were now granted the freedoms and responsibilities of the others in the city. Titles and jobs were confirmed, and each given their first wrist communicator. 

The newly raised clutch had taken time to integrate itself into the adult population, preferring for weeks to remain together for meals and sleep. It was met with understanding, and only mild teasing. The city was one, but your clutch mates were your heart. 

It was who you sought for comfort when the day’s work had not gone well, who gave counsel and support when it was asked. It was who celebrated with you the loudest in your success and who mourned the longest in your loss. You greeting friends with hands on the shoulders, and mates with touches of the nose or cheek. But clutch-mates were always given the press of one’s forehead and a brief hum of remembrance for the bond of birth. 

Vastra’s successes were many. She threw herself mind and body into her work, and with her determination and drive came additional responsibilities and promotions. From Guard she rose to Soldier, and from Soldier to Commander. Conflicts were rare, the entirety of the Silurian civilization was build on the belief that violence was the absolute final choice only. But Vastra’s gift for that violence could not be denied, and when unleashed into battle she was a force beyond stopping. 

Still, the proud Silurian never forgot that first lesson so many years ago, the understanding at the responsibility that came with it. All life was sacred, each taken as a sacrifice to be accepted and respected when needed and no more. No waste. 

Travels far and wide. Diplomatic missions, merchant guard when younger. Some forays on ‘hunting missions’ (tracking dangerous creatures to protect the city, etc). 

Vastra was not far from her 50th hatching when the word came of the potential collision. She attended the conference of the Silurian cities as a guard of honor, and listened as their cousin cities called out possible schemes for survival. 

An ark, one said. A spacecraft where they could keep those of their species and others alive until it was safe to return. A generation ship, with room for an entire city and ecosystem to survive. 

Ridiculous, others said. A space ship? A waste of time and resources.

Vastra listened in silence, it was not her place to speak, but had an opinion none the less. The Ambassador of her clan, Nyssa, was three times her age and no fool. Still, when the elder Silurian asked his unusually young Commander what her thoughts were, he listened attentively. Unusually young Commanders were usually full of unusual wisdom and insight. 

“As you wish,” Vastra had replied with a smart touch of fingers to her chin, a polite salute. “I believe a space craft is a waste of time. This is our home, and I have no desire to leave it.”

“There is the possibility the planet may not support life again,” the Ambassador chided gently. “It may even be destroyed.”

“We are of Earth,” the Commander replied simply. “We have no other home. I believe utilizing the chambers discovered below the surface and constructing stasis pods for our people is our best hope for survival. There is only one thing I would add.”

“And that would be?”

“A second chamber above the first. A small one, for a contingent who will guard the rest. If danger should come from above, the guards will wake first. That way our people may rest as safely as possible.”

“Those guards may not survive if the lands shift about too much,” her companion had replied gently. “Their chamber could draw too near the surface, be discovered by those with nefarious intentions.”

“That is the duty of the guard,” Vastra replied, saluting again. “And it is our honor to do so.”

“I will consider your words, Commander. Thank you.”

The talks lasted weeks. Scientists estimated they had 5 cycles of the earth’s orbit before the arrival of the debris. It was eventually decided that three separate plans would be pursued, and each city would ally themselves with the plan they preferred. Those who chose the same plan would band together, in hopes of a better chance for survival.

The first plan was the spacecraft. Vastra still believed it to be a waste of time and energy, but it was what some had chosen to do. The second was to create strong shelters to withstand the impact on the surface. The third was the hibernation chambers.

The Commander did not ask which plan the Ambassador favored, for she believed she already knew. Instead, she concerned herself with the safe transport of the delegation back to their lands in the west. 

They fly back, and make good time.

Vastra attended the gathering in which the Elders declared the intentions of the other cities and the threat they all faced. Thousands lifted their voices and minds in pledge that it would be so, and hers was among them. Five full cycles of the sun felt like an eternity, and then no time at all. There was much to be done, and the entire small city threw itself into their work in a frenzy of need.

The chamber below the surface was chosen, and the first team sent down to prepare it for the housing of thousands. Vastra did not join the expedition, instead being chosen to help protect those who must gather the needed materials. 

The mine was just a short flight from the city, and the talented Commander settled herself in for her half-cycle of duty. It would take at least two full cycles for them to extract everything they needed from the ground, and the next closest deposit was several days travel to the north. For the sake of time, this was the mine they must use.

Vastra’s duties are to keep the mine secure against mostly natural intruders and predators. The territory includes some very dangerous creatures, and the perimeter is checked daily. They use the sonic things from the episode with the dinosaur to keep creatures safely away, and each one is tested daily. The guards also patrol the mine, and oversee the loading and unloading of supplies. The workers are restricted to ‘safe’ areas. Relations between workers and soldiers are good, and the sleeping and eating chambers are shared. Vastra is given, in six week rotations, juveniles to train as either soldiers or miners. Their participation is figured into everything. 

Most of the food eaten by the miners and soldiers are long-term storage rations. Not very tasty, and certainly tiresome after awhile. 

“Commander,” one of her scouts called over their com units one day. “Would you please come to the west edge of the perimeter. There is something you should see.”

The concern was for a small troop of apes, the large hairless ones, traveling across the valley floor below.

“Why am I needed?” Vastra asked, annoyed. “This is not a concern. They have learned not to come up the mountainside, and if they do they are put to sleep and removed back to the bottom.”

“We want permission to hunt,” one of the scouts replied smartly. “We have not had fresh meat in nearly a moon, and the rations grow tiresome. Let us hunt two or three of the apes. We will eat well tonight, and be better able to bear the moons until we can return home.”

The commander studied the group again through the viewfinder. Two males and a female, older. A young female, her belly swollen, and a young male. Two smaller apes, not yet fully grown. 

“We could take the young female easily,” the scout went on. “She stops often to urinate, then catches up with the rest. And then whoever comes back along the trail to find her.”

Absently, Vastra struck him on the shoulder with enough force to send him to one knee. “Scout, tell this hatchling why we will not do that.”

“We do not kill mothers or children without cause or reason,” the second scout replied evenly. “For it is a waste.”

“Precisely. Take two of the old ones, I do not care which, and do it silently. I do not want you followed back to our perimeter.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Fresh meat at the table that night was more that welcomed, and Vastra could see feet lift with an extra spring at the thought of eating something other than rations. Finishing her own portion quickly, she went back to do her final check before turning in for the night.

The shout was the first warning that all was not well. Running towards the sound, weapon out, a shot ringing into the dark sped her on all the faster. A second rang out on its heels. 

“What is it?” she called, coming upon the scout from earlier pointing his weapon at the crumpled form on the forest floor. “What happened?”

“They approached in a threatening manner,” the scout replied, quickly saluting as she inspected the pair. A young age and one of the old. “And did not listen to my warning. When they got too close, I panicked.”

“A threatening manner?” Vastra hissed coldly, kicking one corpse over with her booted foot. “It was armed with a rock, Scout. A ROCK. Are you telling me a fully-trained Soldier could not disarm two apes carrying large stones with less than lethal force? Why was your weapon set to kill?”

The scout took a step back, scowling at the ground. “There will be no waste,” he argued quickly. “Tonight’s meal was only a mouthful. A second tomorrow will give us even greater heart to carry on in our tasks.”

“And how did they find us?” Vastra added, rolling over his suggestion like an avalanche. “The shield is up, the perimeter intact. Our lights are hidden as always. Why did they come up here, Scout? Why?”

“He left a trail, Commander,” Vintar  
(the second in command) said as she materialized from the foliage of the forest. “Blood, from the capture of the old ones. It leads all the way from their camp to ours, and is so plain a hatchling could follow it. I just returned from their camp. The pregnant female and the two younglings are there, waiting.”

Vastra’s mind reeled from the possibilities and implications. She is interrupted by the arrival of the Lead Miner. The Foreman. 

“Commander,” he said as he nodded to her respectfully. “What is the problem?”

She explains the situation. He turns to the Scout with her, and they both agree. He must be sent to the Elders. Clearly someone failed in his education and training. It does happen at times.

The mother and children are considered next. They cannot leave them alone, the area is dangerous. The Foreman suggests calling upon Scientist Silar. He is there studying the settlement of apes two valleys over. 

The scientist convinces Vastra to help him by putting the three to sleep and transporting them safely to the ape settlement. She does so, and he comes along to monitor the apes and take some samples. It is rare that he has a reason to study them this up close. He rattles on about them, and she learns a great deal.

*Things to add: It is decided that there will be no more eggs. Vastra was asked to bear eggs before this, and she refused. 

*Add more about the buildings and the archives, the various positions and jobs in the city.

The Commander was thankful when her term at the mine was complete. She returned to the city to be greeted by clutch-mates and friends alike. Her fellows at the mine had been kind, but it had not been home.

That night, stomach pleasantly overfull from her welcome celebration, and four of her nestmates curled about her, Vastra hummed with the rest and knew she was complete.

Though the next five days were hers to spend as she choose, Vastra was up at dawn with everyone else. She spent her time in the sun, letting its light and warmth reawaken her sluggish blood back to life. Breakfast was light, merely a snack to prepare her for the day, and the strong female decided lazing about was not on the schedule for her. She had no duties, but her siblings did. To each was given a portion of her time, to serve as they needed in their respective fields.

Of the twelve she had been born among, there were now only nine. Tassana, lost before their fifteen cycle. Sattori, who’s expedition for a new source of metal to the north had been devastated by a raid from unallied Silurians. Malom, who had been part of designing and testing a new form of aircraft. He had, ironically enough, not crashed but had fallen from the craft when his harness had snapped in a training exercise. Each had been mourned by the siblings, and laid to rest.

Vastra spent time with each of those left. Helping where she could, and sharing stories of her time away. Through her memories, they saw the mine, and her work protecting it from all potential harm. The apes in their primitive squalor, and how the scientists observations had caught her mind. And through theirs, she saw so much more. Leese and Rasha had each found a mate, which warranted celebrating, and Noari had earned much honor in her work on the hibernation pods. Tessla was about to end his 15 year term as a Sappa to a clutch of juveniles, his first, and the pride he had for them was tinged with sadness. There would be no more eggs until they woke from their slumber. He would be given a different job, and he would serve well, but he would miss the work with the hatchlings. Vastra did not understand the warmth that he displayed to the young, she did not feel the urge to form bonds with them as her brother did. But she felt his pain at the loss, and comforted him when they lay down that night to sleep.

Foreheads pressed together, arms intertwined, they had hummed and remembered the past. Tessla’s pain was still there. His hatchlings, newly raised to adulthood, were only a few chambers away. His heart ached to go to them, just to see them. To know they were safe. His fellow caretakers lay nearby, comforted by their own nestmates, and the soft keening that rose with the hum did not die out until near dawn. The juveniles were now adults, and must be allowed their freedom.

“You are certain there is no one else you wish to visit?” one sister teased as Vastra helped her calculate the amount of material she required for her project. “You seemed attached to that scientist you met at the mine...”

“He is not of my preference,” the Commander had replied blandly. “And finding one’s mate is not the entire purpose of our lives. I am content with what I have, to serve and to do my duty.”

“I am jealous of Leese and Rasha, though,” Noari had sighed. “They not only found a partner, but also their mindmate. At our age, that is rare.”

“Last time I checked, you had plenty of suitors vying for your attention if it is company that you seek...”

“Which is a nice distraction, but nothing more,” Sighs. “It is just as well. With our deadline, there will be little time for what makes having your mindmate worthwhile.”

“Our people will survive this,” Vastra replied resolutely. “And there will be plenty of time to seek out your mindmate after we awake again.”

“Are you truly so certain we will?” Doubt.

“Of course. We are Silurians, and we are the greatest beings to have walked this planet. Our cities are strongholds of peace and knowledge. We will rise again, when the surface is safe once more.”

“I wish I had your confidence, sister.”

“Then borrow as much as you need, sister, for what is mine is yours.”

And the end of her time of rest, Vastra was next sent to the great caverns below. Meant to shelter their population through the coming crisis, the work there was only just beginning. SHe and her team of soldiers and scientists spent the next half-cycle exploring and mapping the caverns that branched off the main one chosen for the plan. There was not much there to threaten the expedition, besides a few nests of redworms and some sightless slugs. The first were destroyed, and the second led away from the sanctuary being built. But other dangers still existed, four members being lost to unexpected cave-ins and pockets of poisonous gas.

Vastra was thankful when this mission ended as well. Describe more later. 

She missed the sky and the sun nearly as much as she did her siblings. The great reptile also longed for meat, hot with red blood. They had been dependent for months on the blind fish that inhabited the many streams, white slimy things that were unappetizing raw or cooked. Fresh water, at least, was in abundance. They never went more than five days without locating a new underground source, and the reserve tanks on their vehicles carried enough for an eighth of a cycle. 

Describe the vehicle more-one in three pieces. Made to be light, silent and maneuverable. Scans five miles in all directions. Every 3rd day they pulse a message back to the main cavern. Area mapped, basic group status, direction they are headed next. Vehicle includes basic research array, molting chamber, med bay and fuel cells. 

The entire group was unprepared for the changes that awaited them. Long before they reached the main chamber, they were met by laborers carefully carving out and structurally shoring up the smaller tunnels and chambers that surrounded it. Construction had begun further in, and Vastra recognized the layouts of what would become hibernation chambers and large scale power structures attached to some sort of enormous filtration device to keep the air pure once they were all sealed inside. 

The four hour trip to the surface was now less than ten minutes, due to the magnetic platforms that had finally been anchored in place. The explorers were given a hot meal and a night’s rest before being sent up early the next morning. 

Vastra stepped from their transport pad into the sun, and for the first time in half a cycle felt truly alive. Warmth, heavy and sweet, settled into her flesh like a lover’s embrace and she laughed quietly to herself when she realized she wasn’t the only one with hands lifted to the sky. Her suit, of course, had kept her warm enough in the deep, dark depths below. But it was not the same, and she could feel a weight she had realized she carried fall away from her mind. 

“Vastra!” a familiar voice called, and she turned to find Rasha coming towards her with arms and mind open. She gladly accepted the embrace, pressing her forehead to his as his joy at her safe return rang through them both like a tolling bell.

“My brother,” she sighed. “It is good to be home again.”

“Did you see Leese below?”

“He was down there? I did not know!”

“He returns in a day or two, so you will see him then. He will be glad to know you are well. We followed the reports, but it was difficult not to even receive a memory from you in all that time.”

“We had to be sparing with our power.”

“I know, but that did not make us miss you any less. When Leese returns to the surface and Tessla from his trip, we will gather again. It has been too long since our last.”

“I would like that.”

Duty called Vastra away, and she promised to see him again soon before going to make her final report and add her memories of the expedition into the Archive. It was there, speaking to the High Commander, that she learned of her next assignment.

“You volunteered to personally command the small guard force that is to be stationed above the main chambers. Your request, provided you can pass the necessary coursework, will be granted.”

“Necessary coursework? High Commander, I...”

“The Elder has decided that the guard force will be small, no more than fifteen in total. But those fifteen must be uniquely equipped to to handle whatever they find when we are awakened to our new world. Strength of arms may not be enough, you must be able to repair your equipment if necessary, or build new. You must be able to use the most basic of research instruments, and use what information you gather to make potentially life-altering deductions for our entire city. It is impossible to say what we may awaken to, so you must be prepared for every eventuality we can imagine. Your training is estimated to take two years. We have chosen 50 others to join you.”

“I thought there was only to be room for 15?”

“There is. Of those 50, we will only choose the best. Do you accept this responsibility, Commander?”

“I do.” Salute.

“You have three days, then. Use them wisely, for they will be your only break for some time.”

“I will.”

When Vastra met her fifty three days later, she was impressed. The Elders had not only considered that soldiers might be turned into scientists, but that scientists might become soldiers. There were Silurians from a variety of fields in front of her, each equipped with a training program that would ‘fill the gaps’ in their skills and knowledge to join her Elite team. They were to be overseen by a committee, hand-picked by the Elder himself, with Vastra responsible for making reports and notations herself along with her own learning program. Diplomacy, she noticed as she scanned her list, was among her deficits. It was true, and she wondered what they might possibly have devised to help soften her bluntness. Personally, she did not believe it could be done. Still, she had volunteered for this duty and accepted its responsibilities. It was time to get to work.

The pace was grueling. Five withdrew after a tenday, declaring they could not keep up. Three others were told they were not fit to continue. 42, Vastra thought as she looked ahead. If they continued to lose volunteers at this rate, there would be none to join her at the end.

The next ten-day, defying all odds, was even worse. Three more chose to leave, and four others told to go. The thirty-five left were told they had not yet seen the worst, and were they certain they wished to continue? Vastra was thankful when no more turned to leave, but she noticed the uneasy looks that passed between her subordinates. They were even a quarter of the way through their training, and so many had already left or been sent away. How could 15 possible make it to the end?

It was a shock to the reptile, though, when she realized the majority of those left were not soldiers. The non-combatants outnumber the soldiers 3/2. 

When she pointed this out to the head of their oversight committee, he had agreed with her findings but added they were likely skewed.

“The mental schooling everyone receives,” he had reminded her, “Is greater than the physical training. That means that, in some ways, the soldiers began with more difficult material than the scientists. The numbers will likely even out the next half-cycle, as the physical demands increase. Indeed, some of these on your list are passing their timed marks by only the thinnest of scales. If they do not improve, then they will be sent away. 

“I understand.”

Vastra also understood that she was not the only person among the group who could potentially lead. She was their first choice, and she hoped their best, but there was no guarantee she would retain her position to the end. 

Her own workload seemed just short of impossible, and she had given up even attempting to visit her nestmates or friends among the soldiers. She rose at dawn, allowed herself a brief moment outside to greet the sunlight, and was at her archive terminal before she was even fully awake. Much of her day consisted of linking her mind wholey into the mainframe and streaming decades worth of information into her mind as thoroughly as possible. There was a method to it, of course. A way of ‘hooking’ the information from memories together so that even if the memory itself did not immediately surface you could trace back to it with time. After each session of linking on a particular field or subject, a test would be administered to be certain the links had been properly applied. Her assistant for that day would administer the test, and document her results. The evening would be spent checking with the others, eating and resting for it all to begin again.

On a good day, she would pass most of her tests. On the few excellent days, all of them. The reverse, though, was also true.

After three particularly terrible days, Nyssa found Vastra on the roof of the archive. 

“Ambassador,” she said as she rose to her feet, giving the chin salute. “Is there something you require of me?”

“I have been reviewing your work as of late, and thought we might talk.”

“I am sorry, Ambassador. I will try harder to master the Diplomacy.”

“No, you will not.” Reassuring touch on the shoulder. “It is like asking a hammer to open an egg delicately. It can be done, but it is a misuse of the tool. It degrades that which it was built for. Your strengths lie in your blunt and forthcoming nature, I would not take that away from you. There are a handful of others with the necessary skills to negotiate, if it is needed. We will do our best to be sure one or two make it to the final team. In every other area, Vastra, you have exceeded our hopes and expectations. No one can deny your commitment or desire. But we much be certain we do not break the tools meant to protect us. At the end of this half-cycle, we will grant everyone a ten-day of rest, then a second ten-day of half-days. During this rest, we will evaluate the mental and physical health of everyone involved. We will take our findings and determine if we think our current pace is sustainable or not. You will be consulted on this matter, but I have informed the committee they are limited in how much of your time they make take. You need your rest too, and while there are others who might replace you I still believe you are our best option pushing forward.”

“Thank you, Ambassador. It is my honor to serve.” Relief and pleasure.

“Thank you, Commander. You have served well.”

The tenday of promised rest spurred everyone to greater efforts, and the last five were almost a sprint to the finish line.

The first night, Vastra slept among her siblings with her stomach pleasantly full and familiar forms pressed close in the warm dark. She had not realized until now how much she had missed this and them. It was Lohrah who claimed the right of laying with their foreheads pressed tight, arms intertwined. She had been the only one of their clutch not regularly visiting, so her presence would be in high demand for the next few days. The reptile decided she did not mind. Her heart and mind had missed them as they had missed her, and she decided as she drifted to sleep in the comfort of the communal hum that a half-cycle was too long. She would speak to the committee and make them understand. To deprive them of this companionship for so long would weaken them all. This was the reason she worked, to protect her people yes, and to serve, but mostly if she were honest to protect those nearest and dearest to her heart.

The first day the Silurian, for once, slept in. One thoughtful sister woke her at noon with something to drink, and another brought her a meal at dusk. Vastra drank and ate and relieved herself, but otherwise gave her body the rest it craved. In the dark, she woke to find herself surrounded once again by those who knew and loved her best.

Kedrim was the one to claim her that night, and she met his worried, emerald gaze in the light of the stars above.

My sister, this is not like you, his mind murmured against hers. I fear for you, that you push yourself too hard. Our siblings do as well.

I have been, she admitted, bringing one hand up to brush his cheek. She was surprised to realize they were all there. All eight of her remaining nestmates crowded about them in the dark. (Describe them all.)

That she had admitted it soothed them as much as it worried them.

You must not do so.

No, you must not.

We accept that your work is dangerous at times.

To live is danger.

All things must end.

But death from foolishness is a waste.

Vastra’s first response was annoyance. You have been discussing this without me.

We haven’t seen you, and could not address it in person. Now we have.

A fair point.

Please do not be angry.

You are our sister. It is our duty to care for you.

I am sorry. I will do better. Vastra is touched. They have not all been together like this at one time in years. Usually it was three or four gathered together at one time. They truly are worried for her, and as the pain and distress she has caused them settles in she feels guilt welling upside. The hum helps settle it back again, but it is still there. Her siblings pull her deep into the bond, and she realizes that even those with mates are separated from them tonight. 

No much sleep that night, but much mental sharing. The next morning, she meets with the committee. It is a difficult argument, but they see her side of it eventually. The group is given regular time away every eighth of a cycle, a three day rest. She spends the rest of the day with two of her siblings. Dinner is just the three of them, and that night as well.

A few days later, Vastra surprised one of her sisters in her work at one of the research facilities in the city. Expects to find her happy, instead finds her displeased.

“Whatever could be wrong, Lohrah?”

“Vastra!” Pleased, but still worried. “It is my turn to have you underfoot so soon?” Teasing.

“If that is my welcome, I will take myself somewhere else.”

“Of course you won’t. It is these results. They are...cause for concern.”

“What is it?”

“The hibernation chambers work, and we know how to wake those put into them through a careful restoration process. It was mentioned that we should test what would happen to one woken improperly. Skipping steps in the process, or speeding through them.”

“Who would they test such a thing on?”

“The one who presented himself for judgement. His life was given to us, to use to save others.”

Vastra remembers him from the mine. “I see. What have you discovered.”

“That we are a great deal more vulnerable during the stages of waking up than we had originally assumed. The longer one sleeps, the more difficult it is to awaken them quickly or easily. This last stretch was for a third of a year. It took them hours to ease him from his slumber. One of our head researches believes if one was simply taken from the chamber after such a long sleep, the individual in question may die.”

“But that is not all.”

“No, we have observed...mental imbalances in our patient when he is brought out of his hibernation too quickly. Massive episodes of psychosis one time, extreme paranoia another. The length of the imbalance seems purely random, we have seen no correlation between the steps skipped and what sort of imbalance occurs. It is theoretically possible that an abrupt awakening could potentially create any sort of mental reaction.”

“Obviously, I can see your concerns, but it should not be a problem, correct? The hibernation chambers will be programmed so they cannot be forced into waking the inhabitants too quickly.”

“My fear is that something would interfere with the upper chamber,” Lohrah explained, refusing to meet her gaze. “There is no way to prepare for all the potential possibilities. There is still too much we do not know.”

“Then, do your best sister.” Hugging. “I give my safety into your capable hands.”

“Lohrah, I have- oh, you’re...Vastra!” The scientist from before, the ape enthusiast. “So...I guess this is why you said no.”

“Well, yes, but no.” Laughing. “She’s my sister.” She notices her sister’s darkened scales. “And unlike myself, she does prefer the company of males.”

“Vastra!” Embarrassed hiss.

“What? Don’t you?”

“Oh! Ah...”

“You’re busy, though. I will see you tonight. Silar, it was good to see you again.” Leaves, and stops just around the corner.

“I suppose you were just humoring me, all the times I told stories about her. You had probably already heard them all before. I only told them to impress you, so...”

“N-no, I enjoyed hearing them. Vastra is often gone from us, and she never talks about the dangerous things that she does.”

“Oh.” Perking up. “She is impressive, isn’t she?”

“She is. I will probably not accomplish half as much as she has already.”

“Of course you have! Your equation for keeping the parameters of the blah blah blah was amazing! I’m the one that hasn’t done anything important.”

“Of course you have. I thought your submission to the council as to their plan with the hydroponics bay designs not only had very salient points as to it’s flaws, but also an excellent set of proposed solutions as well.”

“Lohrah...will you eat dinner with me tonight?”

Vastra slips her head around the corner, nodding frantically where her sister can see.

“Um...yes, I would like that.”

Vastra leaves, pleased with herself. One more sibling mated off, perhaps.

The respite, like most, did not last nearly long enough and soon Vastra was returning to her work as before. Still, an eighth of a cycle and she would have another short rest. Less than before, but having it so soon made the pace all the more bearable. 

The evaluations revealed weaknesses in other candidates, more asked to leave and others didn’t return. Change to originally starting with 250, now down to less than 100. 

The young Commander lost herself in the rhythm established by her work. A steady run for an eighth, then three days of rest. Her siblings always made themselves available on her breaks, to bolster her flagging spirit and strength for the next steady run. The second half-cycle passed before she realized it, and soon their times at terminals and building their physical prowess was replaced by practical exercises in the field. Scenarios were run, with various pitfalls and traps integrated, and each evaluated as they ran them again and again. Just over 50 were left, and those were split into three teams each ten day to practice in different configurations and evaluated for their overall success.

Two front runners rose from the rest as Vastra’s possible replacements, and the Commander watched them as carefully as anyone else as they drilled. Both were strong leaders in their own right (describe). Still, she remained the obvious preferred choice for now.

The final year began. The chambers below were now almost complete, and Vastra and thirty some left knew every inch of them. Construction had begun on the smaller chamber above, and the city roiled as it prepared to put its population to sleep. Two smaller cities had requested to combine with theirs, and the walls were ready to burst with the extra bodies. It was decided that at the half-cycle mark was when the process would begin. Lots and charts were being drawn up to decide who would go where and in what order. Vastra ignored most of it. She would be last, that had long ago been decided, and her work was not done.

Lohrah and Silar chose to be mated in the following tendays, and Vastra could not be prouder as their mind mated status was confirmed. The celebration took place over her three day respite. Lohrah had apologized for hogging her only free time, and Vastra had been quick to assure her it was fine. She was simply glad they had thought to wait for their absent sister. Not everyone would have.

So she was surprised when, at the half-cycle mark to great catastrophe, that she and the twenty remaining candidates were called before the Elders. Lohrah and Silar are present. 

“Something has come to our attention. Blah blah blah. Research Lohrah?”

Vastra’s sister steps forward, takes a deep breath, and begins. She is different when discussing her craft, and she is proud of her. Then she realizes what is being said.

It’s about the bond nestmates share, and how vital it is to one’s emotional and mental stability. None of those present are from the same clutch. It is proposed to break the bonds of those staying above into a new clutch, formed only of those who will be in that chamber. They are to remain alone for a full quarter turn, and if they awake to an unusual situation could potentially be several turns or more away from their original clutches. None of them are mated, at all. The conclusion is that those staying behind, for their own mental well-being, should be reformed into the new clutch. 

Vastra feels utterly betrayed, and leaves the meeting after the Elders declare it is going to be so. All must consider it, of course. She is found on the roof of the Council Building some time later, still angry and hurt.

Lohrah sighed as she approached, forgoing the traditional forehead press when her sister turned and glared at her.

“I knew you would not take this well.”

“Oh? Am I to be delighted that my sister is heading up an idea to remove me from my clutch?”

“I’m trying to do what’s best for you.” 

“By ripping out my heart? By taking away the one certainty that I have had since I hatched from my egg? Clearly you are doing an excellent job of caring for my well-being.”

“Do you remember the shell of yourself that came to us after your training began?” Angry and demanding. “I do! A year away from us, in such an environment, the you that came to us was breaking inside! The duty you undertake could be the most dangerous you have ever done. We cannot go with you, but we can give you a final gift.”

“So now tearing me from you is a gift? Let me guess, you have already spoken to the others?”

“I have not, but there has been talk of what will happen to you. The other candidates clutches are also worried. And when we began to quietly dig through the archives for answers, we found data to confirm our worst suspicions and more.” Long pause. “Many generations back, there were tests done. It was common, then, to send groups out on expeditions to explore the areas area their growing city. They had not yet mastered the art of flight, and travel over wild terrain around them could take a year or more. It was not until one expedition was lost, and not found again for nearly ten years, that a cause for concern was found. Of the 50 sent out, only 4 survived. (Describe why later.) Two were of the same clutch, and the third mated to one of the two. The fourth was neither mated or with one of his clutch. The fourth was also mad, and his descent was well-documented by his three companions. The mated one without her clutch faired ok, but her health suffered from the strain and she never fully recovered. The mad one never recovered, even after reconnecting with his clutch. He took his own life shortly after his return. Tests began, and it was discovered the bond is a strength as much as it is a weakness. Growing with that support from birth makes it integral to their life, and being without for long periods of time slowly saps their strength and makes the mind lose cohesion. 

It’s why no missions are longer than a half-cycle, and why teams who lose communication are always found quickly. To prevent that loss. Once it begins, you cannot undo the damage. You can halt it, but as they have seen those whose bond is damaged know what has been lost and rarely wish to live afterwards.

“How long before one goes mad?”

“Tests conducted on those condemned by war. The weakest made it 2 to 3 cycles. None of the strongest made it to 10. And the damage is irreversible.”

“Why would I wake for more than a cycle or two without reuniting with my clutch?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know, Vastra, but I feel in my scales that something is going to happen and-” Cutting off distraught. “What if the main chamber is cut off from you? What if you cannot wake us in time? We are not perfect, and our machines can fail. We cannot plan for everything.” Keening, she is so distressed. “I cannot lose you to madness! I don’t wish to wake and find you a broken shell of yourself!”

“Shhh, Lohrah, shhhh.” Pressing her forehead to her sisters as her anger drains away. “I am not lost to you yet.”

“You may be soon.” Pressing close. “What you do is dangerous, and if I did not know that asking you to forsake your duty would break you I would ask!”

“What you ask instead is almost worse.”

“It is all I can think to do.”

“I will think on it. You ask me to tear my heart in two, but I will think on it.”

It tooks three ten days for the decision to be made. Half refused, removing them from the lists. Vastra nearly joined them. To give up her brothers and sisters seemed a sacrifice too great to make even for her people. In the end, she gave in to the will of the Elders.

Each volunteer and their clutch were released from their duties for a full ten day. Such a thing had never been done, and each clutch prepared for their loss as best they could. Reliving memories, spending days and nights together. It is a mourning as much as it is a celebration. To ease the transition, the clutches will go into hibernation three days after the breaks are made. All chose this, rather than have to face the ones being taken from them again. 

The day the bonds are broken and reforged, goodbyes are said and Vastra goes alone to the science center. There she meets with the ten candidates left. Only ten, and all female. Two of the four males chose mates, the other two decided they could not leave their clutch. One is from a half-clutch, only four left. The other didn’t want to be the only male. Came from a male-heavy clutch.

Name all ten and their rolls. Name their overall weaknesses, with the missing four. A scientists enters, and the process begins. 

Vastra goes first. She is put in a pod, put to sleep, and wakes alone in the dark. There is something missing, a piece of her missing, she is alone alone alone alone alone a-

Another moves beside her. One questions in the dark like herself, and as hands and minds meet something unseen clicks into place.

Sister.

Others. Other bodies, other minds. Each is gathered in, a sister made and a dim light beings to shine from above. Hands that are not of them carefully pour mouthfuls of a blood and ground organ slurry into parted lips. Content, surrounded by the sisters that were part of herself, Vastra (that was her name) closed her eyes and slept. 

“It worked,” Silar sighed, leaning on the console as his body slumped in exhaustion. “Goddess preserve us, I think it worked.”

“How long will they require monitoring?”

“Another day and night, at least.” Shrugging. “I am not sure how they will take things in the morning when they wake. Will they still feel the need to mourn those lost to them? Or will this new like supersede it completely? We simply cannot know. We know those who have lost their entire clutch have successfully linked with others in the same position, but never sooner than half a cycle after that. There will be unexpected ramifications. If we are lucky, none will be severe.”

“But we are not certain.”

“No.” Reluctantly. “It is possible the whole team will be lost.”

“And then?”

“Then we will use the second team. Those that refused to break their bonds. They are not as skilled, but still our best choice in the situation.”

“Of course. Thank you, Silar, be certain to send me updates as things develop.”

“Yes, Elder Nyssa.”

The next morning, the newly formed clutch woke bare to their scales and mildly disoriented. Vastra lay among the rest, her head cradled on Illiar’s stomach and Fenor stretched over her legs. Blinking slowly, she scented the air and found...her sisters. Her clutch. Not her clutch. She was home, except she wasn’t. Desperately, her mind chased after something lost, and kept circling back to what it had found. This was right and not right. Whole and not whole. She was...she was...

Scrambling madly away from the rest, Vastra retched in heaving gasps as the strain her mind found an outlet her body could understand. Gentle hands helped her wipe her scales clean when her stomach was spent, lifting her so she sat leaning against the edge of the over sized nest they found themselves in. It was Wystra, the oldest of their new clutch. Her sister, Vastra realized with some wonder. Old enough to be my great-egg mother, and still my sister.

Better? Wystra asked, tentatively using her mind. 

Some. You are not sick?

I think those of us who lost more than we gained are having a harder time of it than those who gained more than we lost. She only had four siblings left. A keening rose from the other end of the nest.

Cassilor?

Her clutch was still whole. Pauses. And large. She lost fifteen.

Why has no one gone to her?”

Because you are First.

Wystra helps Vastra up, and they go to Cassilor. Half falling, the Commander pulls Cassilor’s forehead to hers. The rest join, and the mourn together through the rest of the day.

Things that Vastra realizes. That some of the others thought her unkind at times, they understand better now. She is blunt, but she cares so much inside. Likes and dislikes. A few are surprised to discover she prefers females. It’s like reliving the last few years in fast forward. A second and sometimes third or fourth perspective is added to conversations and interactions from their sharing. They are surprised to find that most of what Vastra is famous for was accident or happenstance. And she was always afraid. Usually, she is very conscience of her scars because almost no one has them. Fighting is extremely rare. But as among her original clutch, now she doesn’t care.

That evening, a large meal is brought, along with the most basic of tunics. They eat themselves to bursting, helping and teasing each other. There are false starts and laughter. They bathe together, as they would have as children, and dress to sleep again. At first there is a moment of hesitation. Vastra moves first, pulling the one who lost the most down with her and pressing their foreheads together. Not everyone chooses to pair off, but the rest press close in, backs together or heads resting on stomachs or limbs and together they hum. Sleep does not come immediately, because they must relearn their hum. Each is different, describe how (pitch and resonances). 

The next morning the cycle begins again. It is not as bad, Vastra does not throw up this time. The one who lost the most still mourns heavily. They comfort and share again. Many stories are told, open and without deception. They bask and nap in the sun. Eat and clean up together. Sleep again. The hum comes more easily this time.

The entire time the clutch is under observation. In the end, it is a full ten day before they leave their seclusion and resume their training. Pros: more of a unit, better communication, more supportive. Cons: less of a command structure, Vastra isn’t as much in control. Still mourning

The city feels empty now. Three quarters of the population has been put to sleep. There have been hiccups in the process, but thus far the scientists and techs have been able to stave off any major disasters. 

Messages come from the other cities. Some are almost finished putting everyone in hibernation chambers. The two arks are finished, and are preparing to launch into space any day now. The few attempting to ride it out on the surface have completed their preparations and are waiting patiently.

Vastra continues to bond with her new clutch. In the end, it is just they in the monstrously huge and empty city for a full four ten days when the final contingent is put to sleep. The city is thoroughly searched, to be certain no one is left behind, or anything of importance. Each day the clutch and elite team sleeps together. Automated defenses keep them apprised of dangers from outside. Tests are run on everyone asleep in the caverns below, and it is inspected top to bottom over and over again. 

The final day arrives, and the eleven stood together on the surface of their home planet as the sun began to set. 

“These suits are ridiculous.” Tugging at the silver-ringed collar at her throat. 

“It may keep you alive if we wake to a world that is much colder than the one we are used to.”

“They are still ridiculous.” Tugging at her collar. “And uncomfortable.”

“That’s because your molt is close. A pity we could not hold off until it is over.”

“Not enough time. The impact is only days away.”

“Will we know time is passing, Vastra?”

“I don’t believe so, Wystra.”

“It is time, sisters.”

Together, they ride the lift to their chamber. It was prepped for that morning. The lift is locked, no one may descend from above, now and the hibernation process began. Vastra and the oldest are last.

“You will follow quickly, sister?”

“I will. And we will see one another soon.”

“It will feel soon, you mean.”

Vastra seals her up. She checks the chamber one final time, and touches each pod one last time.

“Sleep well, my sisters.”

Describe the inside of the pod.

The warmth comes first, running up her chest and down her limbs. Eyes grow heavy as her breathing began to slow. Her heart beat loud in her ears, and her tongue flicked lightly at the filtered air. 

“It will not be long,” was her final thought.

Scenes to add  
-scientists arguing about the variables of what should wake them  
-Vastra’s exploits (Saving juvenile, rescue of an ambassador, eradication of a redworm nest)  
-12 years to impact, not 5  
-emotions and feelings are sensed through the link, no visually observed as much  
-look up signs of aging in reptiles  
-describe more of the technology


End file.
